


Tough Love

by dorian_gray



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Bloating, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Feeder/Feedee Relationship, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Force-Feeding, Hand-feeding, M/M, Size Difference, Slight Bondage, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, feederism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorian_gray/pseuds/dorian_gray
Summary: Jamie keeps stealing the treats his roommate Drew buys for himself, saying his 'godlike metabolism' is better suited for them than Drew, who has been steadily gaining weight all winter. Drew decides to take drastic action.





	1. This Cake Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story posted on AO3! (Obvious disclaimer - I don't condone actually force-feeding unwilling people. This is just for fun.)

"Did you take that cupcake from the fridge?" Jamie glanced over with a faux-innocent expression. There was a wrapper full of crumbs on his desk. "I was saving that!"

"You're always saying you need to get in shape. If you really think about it, I've done you a favour. I’m only looking out for your health, dude!”

Drew folded his arms over his stomach. He was heavier than his roommate, yes, but so was practically everyone. Jamie was all long thin limbs and delicate bones. And maybe Drew was starting to regrow the plump belly he'd sweated off last summer, but that was none of Jamie's business. He'd been looking forward to that cupcake.

"Last warning. You keep taking my food and it's gonna come back to bite you."

"Don't hold your breath. I've got the metabolism of a god." The only thing more infuriating than Jamie's metabolism was how much of he dick he was about it. He had the diet of an unsupervised toddler, far worse than Drew's, but because he never gained any weight from it, he seemed to think he was a health guru. Drew was tired of it. Now was the time for drastic action.

>>>

Jamie hummed to himself as he perused the kitchen for a snack. Drew was out at a casual work dinner, and had been for a few hours already. For someone who claimed to be trying to lose weight, Drew really did eat an awful lot. He’d probably gorged himself as usual, mouth smeared with grease and sauce and chocolate as he ploughed through plate after plate, his middle swelling slowly but surely with every bite.

He opened the fridge and there, in the middle of the shelf, stood a huge slice of chocolate cake, with four thick layers of sponge separated by smooth icing. This was obviously a test. He set the plate on the counter. Drew would lose his mind if he ate this. But then again- he pictured Drew in his favourite t-shirt, which had been getting more and more snug all winter, pulling on the soft curve of his growing stomach. He pictured how embarrassingly tight it would be after he worked through a three course meal. Then, he pictured how it might even slide up if Drew shovelled a piece of cake into it, exposing a sliver of his belly and his growing collection of stretch marks. After all, Drew was still squeezing himself into size M shirts and pretending you couldn’t see his little belly perfectly clearly through the tight fabric. It was like he wanted Jamie to fantasise about touching it. He wasn’t obese - though most probably overweight by the look of his soft thighs - but it was Jamie’s duty, as a friend, to help Drew curb his weight problem. And if that meant disposing of overly calorific foods, so be it.

He swiped a fork from the drying rack and swept back into his room. Hey, maybe if Drew got angry with him, he’d get his heart rate up and burn a few extra calories.

>>>

His first thought upon waking up was that he was sitting upright. This was not typical. His second thought was that he could taste chocolate on his lips. His third was that his back was pressed directly into something hard and cold - he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He cracked open his eyes. Drew was sitting on the counter in front of him, leaning back. Jamie must have been sitting on one of the tall breakfast bar chairs, then, because his line of sight went directly into Drew’s small but prominently round belly. He’d tucked his shirt in and buckled his belt tightly beneath it, as though that would make the bulge any less noticeable. And when he shifted forwards and slid off the counter, his belly hardly moved. It looked pretty firm. Drew must have been even more uncomfortably bloated than Jamie had thought he would be. He tried to reach out and poke it, but his hands wouldn’t move. He tugged, but they were tightly bound together behind the chair. His legs were tied, too.

“Uh, Drew?”

“You know, I’ve been worried about you.” Drew’s voice was off. Distant, cold. “You look malnourished. It can’t be good for you to have your bones sticking out like that.” He came forward and reached out, tracing Jamie’s slight ribcage, the outline of his hipbones, his delicate collarbones. Though his fingers were warm, Jamie couldn't help but shiver. “I mean, I can wrap my hands all the way around your waist.” He did so, and Jamie's heartbeat jolted a little at the sensation.

“You can’t be serious. Is this- did you drug me?”

“It‘s sweet of you to worry about my health. Really, it is. I ought to have returned the favour a long time ago. I can’t stand to let my roommate walk around like a starving skeleton any more than you can stand to let me blow up like a pig.” Drew sidled off to the fridge, and then he saw it there on the counter. Four layers high and soft and moist and simply to die for. The cake.

“I don’t think I like where this is going.”

“I should have seen it from the start. I mean, scrounging though all my food and scarfing it down when I wasn’t looking. You’re obviously desperate to gain a healthy little bit of weight.” Drew came back with a gallon of full fat milk that landed on the counter with a heavy thud.

“Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves here...” Jamie tried to argue. But it was at this unfortunate moment that his stomach twisted and gurgled. How long had he been asleep?

“There you go. No need to deny it, you must be starving.” Drew produced a large knife from a drawer and began to cut an enormous slice of cake, easily twice as big as the one Jamie had stolen. The blade sank smoothly through the soft layers and he tipped the slice over onto a smaller plate. Drew settled back against the counter, holding the plate and a fork.

“Drew-“

“I won’t hear it, Jamie. You’ve been so selfless in helping me with my little problem, you’ve just got to sit back and let me repay the favour. If you had just been straightforward about it in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to get all ‘tough love’ on you. But if this is how it’s got to be, then so be it.” He scooped out a large forkful of the cake and held it out to Jamie. He considered refusing, but he didn’t like the vibes Drew was giving off. He’d really gone off the deep end with this - drugging him and tying him up in the kitchen? That was nuts. Who knew what else he’d do if Jamie didn’t cooperate? Besides, he was hungry. His stomach whined and he gave in, leaning forwards an inch and accepting the soft, moist cake into his mouth.

The taste was orgasmic, just like the first time. Rich and sweet and soft. He closed his eyes to savour it as he chewed and swallowed. He opened his eyes and immediately another forkful presented itself, poking his lips this time. Then came another, and another, and after a few minutes of solid chewing, the slice was gone.

“Okay, we’re done. Can you untie me, now?”

Drew forced the milk jug against his lips and tipped. His mouth was a little dry and sticky from cake, so he accepted it and chugged for as long as Drew held it there. Some of it still escaped and dribbled down his chin. When he was done he gasped for breath and had to swallow down a burp to stop himself letting it go right in Drew’s face.

“Can I go now?”

“You haven’t finished yet,” Drew gestured back at the huge cake. There was about three quarters of it left. Jamie’s jaw dropped open. He hadn’t considered that Drew would try to make him eat the whole thing.

“You’re kidding. There’s no way. I’m already kinda full, dude.” His stomach gurgled, probably from all the milk he’d just chugged down, and he made eye contact with Drew as he cut another hideously thick slice.

“Your little tummy says otherwise.”

“Look, I’m sorry for eating your cake and being mean about you getting fat again. You made your point. I won’t do it again.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t a punishment, Jamie. This is good for you.” Drew offered up another forkful of cake. Jamie kept his mouth shut. “Come on. A little snack here and there like you’ve been doing won’t get you far, especially with a metabolism like yours. What you really want to do is overload it every now and again, to give all that fat a chance to settle in.” Jamie licked his lips. Drew didn’t currently sound like a person that could be reasoned with. Whether this was just revenge, or whether he actually believed the batshit insane things he was saying, he wasn’t going to be budged. Jamie didn’t have a lot of options. He could go through with Drew’s weird, creepy little scheme and probably throw up. He could refuse and invoke an even deeper anger that he couldn’t predict at this point. He could shout for help if he was desperate - but what was that going to achieve? In the event a neighbour did come knocking or call the police, they were going to see him eating cake. And even if they could help, god knows what Drew would do between him yelling for help and the help arriving.

“Fine,” he sighed and accepted the cake.

Now he knew just how much he was supposed to eat, he started chewing frantically. The faster he ate, more he’d eat before reaching the point of impassable nausea, and the more likely Drew would be to be merciful. The second slice was simple enough, but even by the end of the third he was starting to get tired of it. The milk helped, but Drew noticed his chewing slow, and by the fourth slice every forkful was pushed more and more forcibly against his mouth, smearing icing and crumbs all over his lips and chin.

“Come on, man, I’m going as fast as I can. You try eating this much fucking cake at once,” Jamie moaned through a particularly large mouthful. Drew raised an eyebrow. He had a habit of resting one of his hands on his belly and rubbing it, and Jamie was developing a habit of staring at it and getting horny in a really confusing way.

“Surely you can’t want _me_ to eat any of it? All that fattening sugar would blow me up if I so much as licked it. And besides, I’ve just come back from a very filling meal.” Jamie suddenly found himself wishing he could touch Drew’s full belly too. It was constantly in his line of sight.

“Maybe nobody’s gotta eat all of it at once.”

“With your _godlike metabolism_ , if you’re going to reach a healthy weight, you need to flood your system with a lot more calories than you’d think.” Jamie had never regretted saying anything more.

“I’m not an _unhealthy weight_ ,” he grumbled.

“You’re certainly underweight, which isn’t good for anyone in the winter. You’ll be susceptible to all kinds of nasty infections. Now open up.”

He made it to the end of the fifth slice before shaking his head.

“Please. I’m done.” There was just under half the cake left. Drew sighed and mumbled to himself as he cut the next slice regardless. “I mean it. I’m starting to feel sick. It’s been like an hour of straight cake, dude. You’ve made your point.”

He was definitely full now, and starting to feel nauseous. His stomach bubbled and gurgled every few seconds, and there was no way Drew could confuse it for hunger after force-feeding him half a fucking cake. He closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to get comfortable. His ass was numb, his wrists hurt. He felt fidgety, but also really needed a nap to sleep off the sheer volume of sugar he’d been forced to swallow. When he leaned forwards again, something dug into his waist. He groaned and looked down, and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of his usually perfect, flat stomach bulging out, straining against the waistband of his jeans.

“The fuck?” He mumbled. His dick twitched and he almost had a second heart attack. That was a problem he really didn’t need added to his large stack of problems this evening.

“This for your own good.”

“Yeah, so you keep saying, but it won’t be so good if I throw up on you.” Drew frowned.

“You’re not getting out of that chair until that whole thing is inside you. But I’ll be generous. If you desperately need a break, I’ll consider it.” Jamie breathed in to sigh in relief and burped instead. “If...you ask very, very nicely.”

“Please?”

“Please, _master_.”

“What? Oh, no way. You’re not my judo sensei, kink daddy, potions master. No way, dude.”

“Well, then. Eat up.” Jamie grimaced. This was about pride now.

The sixth slice was painful. Burps found their way up every few seconds and his insides gurgled almost constantly. His stomach hurt where it tried to bulge over his waistband, but it was too hard and full to be flexible, so it just sat on top and the stiff fabric dug deeper and deeper into his flesh every time he shifted.

“Can you at least undo my jeans?” He thrust his hips out to emphasise the problem before Drew could force more milk into him.

“Can you ask nicely?” Drew asked. Jamie cursed and flopped back into the chair. Drew was particularly vindictive with the milk this time; it felt like at least twice the glass-size portion he usually forced down his throat after he finished a slice. It filled up all remaining space he had left. It felt like it soaked into all the cake and weighed it down further. His waistband really stung, now.

“God, please. I can’t with these jeans.” Milk dribbled down his chin. He was practically gasping for breath now, there was so little room for his lungs. Drew leaned forwards and cupped his jaw, tilting his head up so he had to look directly into his eyes.

“Ask nicely.” Jamie tried to resist, he really did. But everything hurt and he felt like he’d throw up from the pressure of his jeans alone.

“Fine. Please...” he panted and felt Drew’s grip on his chin tighten. “ _Master_.” Drew smirked and instantly reached down. He could barely get his fingers around the swollen stomach in the way, but once he’d undone the button Jamie sighed in relief. His belly plopped forwards, painfully round and so heavy it almost seemed to brush his thighs when he leaned forward. “Fuck.” He gasped and leaned back again, squeezing his eyes shut as blood rushed to his dick. The two flaps of his fly gently cupped his stomach, clearly incapable of coming together over it now.

“If I’d known you liked getting fat so much, I would have done this months ago,” Drew murmured. He was as enraptured by Jamie’s smooth, rock-hard belly as Jamie had been by his soft one.  
There were two pieces of cake left now. His whole existence became chewing and swallowing. Jamie leaned back with his eyes shut and his thighs spread as wide as he could manage with his ankles tied.

“You’re doing so well,” Drew murmured as he ate. “Tell you what. If you finish this whole thing, I’ll even give you some _positive reinforcement_.” He stroked the smooth curve of Jamie’s belly and he couldn’t help bucking to get more pressure out of it. Drew let his fingers ever-so-slightly trace over his dick, straining up beneath his jeans.

“God, please,” he moaned, and a few wet crumbs dribbled out of his mouth. Drew responded by lacing his fingers through Jamie’s hair, pulling his head back and tipping in more milk. With every swallow his stomach expanded and pushed up, leaving less and less space to breathe.

“Good boy,” Drew murmured. He rested his hand on Jamie’s huge, swollen stomach and rubbed in small circles as he drank.

“I’m gonna fucking burst,” Jamie panted. Drew pressed down on his upper belly and forced out a wet, nauseous burp.

“No, no. I think there’s still some give in there.” Drew got up and stood behind Jamie now. One hand constantly massaged his abused gut, while the other shoved handfuls of cake into his mouth. The plate and fork had been forgotten now; they were both desperate - Drew for Jamie to eat more and get bigger and rounder, and Jamie for this to be over before he threw up so Drew could jack him off. Drew shoved a huge lump of cake and icing into his mouth and followed it up immediately with an unending stream of milk. It went on for almost a minute of straight chewing and swallowing and breathing frantically through his nose as he swelled, and then it was done. He stayed still, panting and moaning and straining forwards for a massage, but nothing came. He cracked open his eyes. The huge plate on the counter was empty. The cake was gone. He looked down. His stomach was huge and swollen, gently touching the tops of his thighs, with smears of crumby milk and icing on it. Drew was behind him.

“You did it.”

“Fucking hell,” Jamie moaned, as his wrists and legs were untied. Drew put his hands under Jamie’s armpits and pulled him up and onto his feet. The sudden change of balance made him feel like he was going to throw up. His centre of gravity had completely shifted. He braced himself against the counter with one hand and tentatively traced the outline of his abdomen with the other. It was like nothing he’d ever felt, so tight and full and stretched so far he could feel his stomach bubbling beneath his skin, struggling to digest.

“Beautiful,” Drew was behind him, breathing against his neck. His own bloated but soft middle pushed into Jamie’s back, his hands roaming over Jamie’s bare torso. Every tiny bit of pressure on it caused his dick to throb harder. He needed both hands to lean on the counter as he bucked back into Drew.

“God, please.”

“Please...?”

“ _Please, master_.”

Drew’s hands finally roamed lower. He palmed Jamie through his jeans and he moaned in response.

“I didn’t think you would really do it. You’re incredible. Just look at you.” He pulled down Jamie’s jeans far enough to get his hand beneath his boxers. “You’ve definitely earned a reward.” The feeling of one of Drew’s cold hands on his stomach and the other on his dick was all he needed to climax.  
While Drew washed his hands, he staggered into his bedroom in a daze and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, covered in crumbs and icing and milk with his jeans undone and pushed low on his hips. He’d always had such a flat stomach that it was hard to believe it was attached to him. It all felt so surreal.

“I look fucking pregnant, dude,” he murmured out as Drew sidled into the room. “What the hell have you done to me?” He turned to the side to see the full, smooth curve of it sticking out in profile, and traced the lines of his hipbones, which formed a perfect V at the sides of his belly.

“You know, I would have eaten that whole thing myself if I hadn’t realised that you needed it more,” Drew said. He pulled Jamie against him and ran his hands up and down over his stomach. Jamie closed his eyes and leaned back into him, savouring the gentle pressure of his massage, and of Drew’s gut cushioning the base of his spine. Drew leaned over and kissed a bit off icing off Jamie’s cheek.

“Glad you saw sense. You really didn’t need any more calories tonight.” Jamie reached back to smack Drew’s belly, which was still bloated enough to only jiggle a little bit. “How many calories were in that fucking thing, anyway?”

“Seven thousand, give or take. Plus all that _full-fat_ milk.” Jamie stared into the mirror and cupped his stomach with both hands. Seven thousand calories, and it was all inside him. “That’s a good start, don’t you think?”

“Ask my digestive tract in a few hours,” Jamie said. Drew snorted.

“One more thing.” He left and came back with measuring tape. Jamie let him loop it around his middle, where it served to make him look even rounder. “36 inches.”

“Is that good?” Jamie asked. He was unable to take his hands off his stomach now, and he was very ready to a nap.

“When you were asleep, I measured your tiny little waist at 28.” Drew stuffed the tape into his pocket and gently cupped Jamie’s jaw. “That’s very, very impressive. But imagine what it would be like if this was how you looked every day. If this was how you felt.” Jamie’s hands stilled. The nausea had mostly subsided now, and he was left with a very pleasurable kind of tight pain. The feeling of his stomach, round and firm beneath his hands, the feeling of being so completely satisfied, was amazing. And it looked almost ridiculous to have such a huge stomach protruding from such a skinny body, stretching his skin tightly over his ribcage. But he couldn’t lie to himself. He liked it. He’d liked it on Drew so much that he’d been jealous, and now he had it for himself and it was incredible.

“That would be something,” he said, a little breathlessly. Drew smirked and leaned closer.

“Well, if you’re good, I’ll have a nice full breakfast ready for you tomorrow. And a nice brunch, and a nice lunch, and some nice snacks, and some nice afternoon tea, and some nice dinner, and a very, very nice midnight snack. I’ll feed you all the naughty, fatty foods I’m not supposed to have. I’ll get you up to a healthy weight in no time.” As he spoke, he leaned even closer and began to whisper. “But only if you ask _very, very nicely_.” One hand found Jamie’s hip and the other slid down his jeans to grab his ass.

Jamie gulped.

“ _Please, master_.”


	2. Growth Mindset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Drew enter a feeding frenzy in the weeks following the Cake Incident.

 

Jamie’s experience in the bathroom the next morning was...interesting. But after it was over, he stood in front of the mirror again, running his hands back and forth over his stomach. It had mostly returned to normal, but there was a definite bloat poking out from his lower gut. He experimented with sucking it in and out. It was pretty flexible now, not hard like the previous night, and he wondered if he would look like this all the time if he gained weight. His jeans buttoned up without complaint, but there was a definite hint of pressure there that there hadn’t been this time yesterday morning.

 

It was the weekend, and neither of them were working. The warm, salty smell of frying eggs and bacon wafted into his room. His stomach growled and he looked down in disbelief. Surely he’d eaten enough yesterday to last him for last days? He followed the smell.

 

Drew had three pans sizzling on the stove at once - one full of fried eggs, one full of sausages and one full of bacon.

 

“Morning,” he said. He turned off the stove and poured each pan of food onto a huge plate, which he slid onto the counter in front of Jamie. “Bon appétit.”

 

“Wow. You’re really not holding back, huh.” Jamie stared at the sheer volume of food in nervous anticipation. He wasn’t sure his body was ready for such a shockwave so soon after last night - his stomach definitely still felt a little sensitive.

 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Drew pointed out. He sat opposite Jamie with a slightly smaller portion - still large enough to be far too much for an average person - and started shovelling it into his mouth. They both moaned at the taste of the crisp, salty bacon, and the perfectly done eggs, and the juicy sausages.

 

“Thought you were looking after your health?” Jamie remarked at the sight of Drew clearing his plate so fast. Drew smirked through a mouthful of bacon and shook his head.

 

“I’ll work it off later.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Jamie asked. Between bites of food, his eyes frequently lingered on Drew’s gut. “You always talk about getting into shape, but I haven’t actually ever seen you exercise.”

 

“That’s for me to worry about. This weekend is going to be about you. Eat up.”

 

It took him over an hour to clear his plate. Protein sat a lot heavier and filled him up faster than cake, but the variety made it easier to keep going. By the end he was sprawled on his back in his room, taut belly jutting out, with Drew sitting on his lap with a plate of greasy crumbs. His jeans had been sacrificed five eggs ago, his shirt was stained with ketchup and discarded on the floor beside them.

 

“Good boy,” Drew murmured. He left the plate on the bedside table and started to grind into Jamie, rubbing his stomach with both hands as he did so. Jamie took it all in with his eyes shut, the fullness, the tight, hard feeling all over his body. And every now and then he glanced down and saw his huge stomach, and beyond it Drew pounding up and down on top of him.

 

The whole weekend was like that; eating and fucking and napping and being shaken awake to eat again. The week after was less intense, with work and college, but when they were together, Jamie never went hungry. Drew talked a lot about expanding his capacity and slowing his metabolism, but Jamie didn’t really care. He just wanted to eat. He was addicted to the pressure and pain, to the knife-edge between ecstasy and nausea that came from eating far, far too much. He was addicted to the hunger he saw in Drew’s face, in the way his hands roamed over his body when he ate. It was so easy so slip into following orders. Even if he was certain he was done, if his whole gut hurt and he was panting with the pain of it and he was about to throw up, if Drew stroked the sensitive skin at the top of his stomach and called him a good boy, he’d take another bite.

 

Drew revelled in measuring. The end of the day came with the gentle caress of his tape measure around the widest, most bloated part of his middle. That weekend brought him from his slim, unstuffed 28 inch waist up to almost 37 both nights after almost twelve hours straight of constant eating and chugging. Drew counted every the calorie he forced down Jamie’s throat with reverence. Seven thousand on Friday evening became ten thousand on Saturday and Sunday. Even when Jamie couldn’t eat all day because of class or work, he sent him out with a full stomach and extra snacks. Drew found new ways to add more sugar and fat to everything. He barely let Jamie breathe between meals (of which there were many) without pressing an extra sweet treat to his lips. Occasionally he might show mercy and offer some fruit or a salad to balance out the sheer volume of fat. He didn’t want Jamie to gain his healthy weight too unhealthily, after all. His greatest pride, however, was weighing him. He didn’t expect him to have gained any fat just yet, but he certainly hardened at seeing that the number on the scale had shot up from 140 pounds on Saturday morning to 153 the next Friday night from all that heavy food, bloating and water retention. Temporary as that response was, it foreshadowed future growth that Drew obsessed over.

 

When the time came for Jamie to do an assignment for college, he settled at his desk in his underwear, with one hand on his bubbling stomach at all times. Drew mostly left him alone when he worked, but popped in every half hour to press a chocolate bar into his hands.

 

“Got to keep your brain fuelled.” Then he’d wink and sidle out again.

 

Eating started to become routine. Whenever Jamie felt like he could breathe without a stabbing pain in his stomach, he shovelled in a few more mouthfuls - even when Drew wasn’t there to feed him. In fact, Drew’s absence became a motivator at times; the thought of him coming home and finding Jamie stuffed full with as many calories as he could fit, the thought of that praise and reverence Drew reserved only for him, was enough to keep him eating. He'd pretty much trained himself to ignore the signs of fullness and keep eating no matter what. He ate when he worked on assignments, he ate when he read, when he watched Netflix, when he played games, when he was walking to class. He had huge boxes of chocolate bars and snack cakes under his bed, and extra treats in his bag and all his jacket pockets.

 

He’d found that it was too uncomfortable to wear his jeans most days, since he always had to undo them to make more room when he was full. As a result, he ended up in sweatpants whenever he left the flat. His XS shirts moulded tightly to his skin when he was especially stuffed, and he got a kick out of the look on Drew’s face when he stretched his arms over his head and his shirt rode up to reveal a good two inches of taut, smooth flesh.

 

It was about a month after the Cake Incident that the effects of his new healthy diet became apparent. (He’d gained a couple of inches on his waist at his most stuffed and his scale weight had crept up too, but both of those could have been due to his increased capacity - more food inside his stomach meant a bigger bloat, a higher weight and a bigger waist measurement both at the end of the day and the next morning.) He hadn’t been able to see the true impact on his body, unmoderated by bloating, simply because he spent so much of his time full to bursting. It was early morning after a fairly light night of eating, and he was getting ready for class with some coffee. His phone jingled from his bedroom to tell him it was time to leave. In getting up to turn off the alarm, he ran into the edge of the counter and spilt half the mug over his sweats. Cursing, he kicked them off and threw them in the washer to be run later. He searched through the piles on his floor for another pair, but they were all dirty too. His only option was jeans - they’d been left crumpled under his bed after the first few times he’d tried wearing them out with his full stomach digging into them.

 

“Thank god I don’t have time for a filling breakfast,” he muttered as he pulled them on. This was where the problem arose. They fit particularly snugly over his thighs (though that could easily have been because of the sticky coffee he’d spilt on his legs) and as he went to button them, he had to suck in to zip them up and get the flaps together at the top. As he breathed out and let his muscles relax into their normal shape, a small paunch settled down onto the waistband. He stared at it, all thoughts of being late for class forgotten for the moment, and pinched it between his fingers. It wasn’t much, hardly a significant weight gain by any means, but that was undoubtedly what it was. He skidded to the mirror in a haze.

 

There it was. Unmistakable. A bona fide roll of fat on _his_ _body_ squeezing out of _his jeans_. He sucked in, and there was the body he was used to seeing a month ago, thin and smooth. He relaxed again, and there was a body that was entirely foreign. It was small. It wasn’t as though he was fat. This probably was a healthy weight, compared to what he was used to. But it was certainly disconcerting.

 

His phone jingled again and he cursed. He’d be late to class if he spent any more time getting hard over the effects of his own gluttony. He grabbed his bag, whipped out a snack bar from his drawer and sprinted out. Drew would have to be informed of this development immediately.

 

For his whole lecture, all he could think about was the pressure of his waistband digging into his new, soft flesh. Over and over again he had to stop himself from sticking his thumb beneath it to get a little breathing room. And then his stomach started to gurgle. He hadn't really felt hungry in weeks - it's difficult to feel hungry when you constantly eat double your recommended daily calorie intake as a minimum every day - and it surprised him. He'd only had a snack bar on the way to the lecture, and now he was thinking about all the lovely delicious food he could be eating rather than sitting there with an empty stomach and uncomfortable jeans. He thought about Drew hand-feeding him for hours and only letting him take them off if Jamie ate everything like a good boy and begged _extra_ nicely for relief. He found himself unconsciously massaging the gurgling part of his belly, squeezing the little bit of fat he'd gained, and went red. He hoped nobody noticed that. 

 

"Got something to show you," Jamie burst out, as soon as Drew came through the door that evening. Drew raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. Nothing was obviously different. "No, dumbass, look." He whipped his shirt off. 

 

"You haven't worn those for a while," Drew said, in a quiet voice. 

 

"Difficult to eat a lot in. More so now. See?" Jamie jiggled his little belly. Drew reached out and squeezed like a baker testing his dough. 

 

"Interesting. I'd been waiting to do this, but you've made good progress. Do you have time to eat tonight?"

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I'd like you to burst out of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter today. If you're interested, my tumblr @ is stuffedblue99!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully I will add a couple more chapters to this later on, featuring more of Drew & Jamie's relationship, stuffing scenarios, weight gain progression etc. If you have a scenario you think would be interesting to see feel free to comment it and I might include it!


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